


She Wears Her Heart On Her Sleeve (And Her Face)

by thelinksthatconnectus (orphan_account)



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Butt shaking, Drabble, F/F, Femslash, Femslash Friday, Mutual Attraction, One Shot, POV Female Character, Star wants the Booty, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mewberty sucks, especially when boys aren't the only ones that make Star's body break out in lavender hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Wears Her Heart On Her Sleeve (And Her Face)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaintyDuck_99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyDuck_99/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stars Are Forged Like Cations, Only More Enticing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675369) by [DaintyDuck_99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyDuck_99/pseuds/DaintyDuck_99). 



> I started shipping Star/Chantelle after reading DaintyDuck_99's fic. Go read it cause it's really good!

Star could only imagine what her face looked like. Blond hair covered most of her face, tickling her chin a and cheeks and blocking part of her vision. Yet with all the hair she had, there wasn't enough to cover her entire face. Air, far colder than usual for The Golden State, blanketed parts of her cheeks and forehead.

"Can you move any faster?" Star asked, her eyes turned towards the ground.

"I'm moving as fast as I can," Marco replied, his voice sharp. "We're in school, you know. Besides, running in the halls can be dangerous."

Star clenched her fists tighter. Why did he always have to be so worried about safety? Hadn't he learned from his adventures across galaxies, fighting monsters and escaping death (and more than a few times at that), that there were worse dangers in the world than getting a scraped knee or bumping into someone?

Star kept her eyes on her sneakers. She could hear boys around her, talking, whispering, walking. Every step they took echoed in her ears, and she analyzed every word that they said.

Boys, she thought, crossing her arms over chest and picking up her pace.

As uptight as her Mom could be sometimes (or, rather, most of the time), it would have been nice to have her around. Not only would she know what to do, but she would really know how to help. After all, she had gone through mewberty as well.

From the corner of her eyes, she watched the school pass her by, dodging her eyes down whenever a boy came near. Dark green lockers and locked doors passed her by. It seemed she always had mere moments to look before she had to gaze down again.

And no wonder, Star thought. With a face like this, who wouldn't be looking at you?

Still, when she looked to the side and saw the school's (mostly empty) trophy case, she couldn't help but smile. She wasn't out yet, but she was close.

Just a little further, she thought. Things will be fine. By tomorrow everything will be back to normal.

Getting to Marco's house meant getting away from boys and to her mirror.

It's a good thing it's not a human mirror, Star thought with a small smile. The last thing she wanted to be looking at was her own face.

As she walked, she scratched Purple Hearts from off of her skin. They fell to the floor, forming a trail behind her. Star and Marco probably looked like those two kids in that fairy tale, lost in the deep, dark woods and trying to get home, and leaving a trail behind them to try and not get lost.

From the corner of her eye, green grass and bleachers appeared.

Almost to the parking lot, she thought.

She was almost to her bike - purple and covered in stickers of puppies, and almost home safe.

Almost.

Her eyes stopped on the cheerleaders; it was hard to ignore them, almost as if they had some kind of magnetic force drawing eyes towards them. Tuning them out wasn't easy either. There may not have been a game, but they sure were yelling like there was one, Brittany the loudest one of all. She commanded the girls with a fierce determination, motioning for them to move by the movement of her hands and the shaking of her pom-poms.

One particular girl caught her eyes.

Chantelle stood near the front, her arms outstretched and holding her own orange pom-poms towards the sky.

Perhaps if the other girl had noticed Star, then she would have blushed. She always seemed to whenever she saw Star, her words coming out in a mere mumble. Now, her face was only red from heat and work.

Star froze, her eyes caught on her. Each step was graceful and practiced, without a single mistake. Chantelle could probably do this in her sleep.

"Star!" Marco yelled.

Star's lips remained still, her eyes locked on the brunette. Even from the distance, she could spot the other girl perfectly.

It was good to see that Brittany had finally gotten around to teaching the team some moves other than shaking their butts. Still, as graceful as each leap was and as practiced as the pyramid was, there was nothing quite like seeing her shake her butt at the end. Her skirt swished, her end pointed forward directly in Star's direction.

Maybe she knows I'm looking, Star thought.

This time, she was the girl who blushed.

Finally looking to her arms and legs, she gasped. Maybe there were times when her mom couldn't help her.

"Star!" Marco repeated, his voice rising.

Her eyes moved from her body, which was slowly growing more and more violet, and back to Chantelle.

Turning away from the cheerleaders and her best friend, Star turned and ran. Her hands shook as she pulled a locker open; could it open any slower?

When she closed it, bits of light still snuck in from the air shaft, the light illuminating the hearts that continued to blanket her body. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as they could go, ignoring the ache it caused.


End file.
